


Failure and Futility

by burymeonpluto



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Ending, Gen, Identity Issues, Mentions of Sora/Riku, Messy on Purpose, Time Loop, Vanitas is Sora, insignificant spoilers for re:mind, kind of, slightly meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23367838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeonpluto/pseuds/burymeonpluto
Summary: Miracles don’t come cheap, and Vanitas has his hands wrapped around Sora’s throat, ready to collect.
Relationships: Sora & Vanitas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 65





	Failure and Futility

  
  


Vanitas has lost so many times, it’s become second-nature. Starting over again is just the way of this world. Once all the pieces have fallen, he’s able to reset the board, and try again. Try something new, until the Light no longer expires.

There’s only one way to win, and Vanitas has to find it.

Instances overlap and blur together until he can no longer discern one from the other. An endless parade of destruction. Each life that’s snuffed out is as inconsequential as a single grain of sand in the hourglass, passing through his fingers as a mark of something but flowing much too fast and all at once for him to grieve over each and every fallen speck. And just before time runs out, Vanitas will turn the glass over again. Maybe this time it will work. Maybe this time it’ll be different.

This time, he’ll know what to look for. What to prevent. Where to step in and where to fall back. No, this time for sure. He’ll catch the warning signs early. He’ll know the signals of a doomed venture. He’ll save all the pieces. It’ll be a perfect game. This time, he’ll fix it. For sure. This time.

Or this time.

Or the next. He’ll do it.

He’ll _win_.

Every failure is nothing but a reminder.

He remembers Riku’s back as he’s eaten alive by the Darkness. His immovable stance barely faltering before the Heartless swallow him whole. How the levee breaks once he’s gone, and Sora is swept away by the tide. The shock of seeing Riku fall is the only thing that kept him afloat at first. Vanitas has seen it so many times, in every twisted way it could play out, the loss burning holes in his heart like falling embers, singed until there’s nothing left. Nothing but hard calluses and scar tissue.

Eight times out of ten, Riku fights the horde alone. He stands like a beacon, a hero in Sora’s weakest moment.

The first time Riku shelters Sora in his arms, ignored his instincts and turned his back to the battlefield, Vanitas doesn’t know what to do. What is this supposed to prove!?

The first time Riku reaches over and lays a firm, confident kiss against Sora’s mouth, the world stands still. Riku turns and faces the tide as he did before, but this time he leaves a new, bleeding cut down the center of Vanitas’s scar-laden heart.

He’s watched Riku get ripped to shreds, torn asunder by a replica of himself, had his heart extinguished by vessels and Heartless and reapers alike. His unshakable foundation—the shining hero of Sora’s heart, the keeper of his dreams—Vanitas knows his insides are just as soft as anyone else’s.

Kairi will slip into the Darkness without so much as a ripple. She’ll go without much fight or confidence. She’s been utterly destroyed by Xemnas, shattered like glass by Xehanort, pummeled by meteors. Any number of spectacular ends. Kairi either goes in silence, or bombastic fanfare. Nothing, or everything.

The shards of her broken heart can’t even break Vanitas’s skin anymore.

He’s seen Ven get blasted away, practically cleaved in half by Terranort’s blade, or break down and fall to his knees on the battlefield—apologizing through tears that this is all his fault for reasons no one understands but Ven himself. Whenever it happens, it fills Vanitas with such rage that he smashes Ven’s head in with the blunt side of his keyblade. How dare he give up so easily.

Vanitas isn’t sure when the Kingdom Key turned to this. These broken pieces barely held together with chains. With all these dead ends running around in his head, he supposes it’s fitting. He’ll take the mantle of Vanitas in that case. Sora doesn’t remember their failures, but _Vanitas_ does. So he will be Vanitas. Whatever works. Wherever there’s an empty slot for him slip in and try again. And again.

He’s watched Aqua get swallowed up, her fears getting the best of her, and insecurities mounting until she deludes herself into thinking this is what she _deserves_. He’s seen Terranort rip her chest open, Vanitas’s own blade strike her while she’s unprepared, exhausted, or distracted.

Donald and Mickey have used their life force in exchange for magic. Donald can set the entire Graveyard aflame. Mickey can freeze time with a wave of his blade—a lot of good that does. These grains of sand are unrelenting. They can be redirected and reversed, but they always flow. Vanitas has seen the mages’ Light sputter out as they learn that lesson the hard way.

Vanitas will dig in his heels until it’s done. He will fight and do whatever it takes to break this hellish cycle. He’ll give anything for a miracle. Anything. His name. His keyblade. Whatever the price is—he’ll pay it!

Sora will pay it. They are the same, aren’t they? When Vanitas finally finds the true ending, everything will turn out.

But it’s not. Vanitas spies Sora lurking beyond the veil—freeloading within his own heart for that second—third—twentieth— _thousandth_ —chance. Another piece of himself living as an observer. But _Sora_ doesn’t remember. _Vanitas_ does. Sora doesn’t know failure. Not yet. He can’t possibly win, when he doesn’t know how much it hurts to lose. He hasn’t paid the price. The toll for the miracle.

No, the price _has_ been paid. Vanitas has paid it, suffered for it, and Sora has not. He stumbled his way through to the finish line without even _knowing_ —Vanitas is the one who covered all the pitfalls! Vanitas knows all of the wrong answers. Sora just happened to wander in the right direction. Where’s the justice there? The vindication? Vanitas fought so hard—it isn’t fair. Sora doesn’t deserve the happy ending. He hasn’t suffered nearly enough. He has to pay the price. Miracles don’t come cheap, and Vanitas has his hands wrapped around Sora’s throat, ready to collect. If this timeline doesn’t end, Vanitas will make Sora wish it did.

It’s only fair.

Vanitas latches on with both hands. Claws digging into Sora’s flesh. He won’t let go. Touch like needles bearing into his skin. He _won’t let go_. They’re the same. Vanitas is the failure. Sora stumbles clueless and victorious.

They’re the _same_.

_He won’t let go_.

“You know nothing of suffering.”

Sora thrashes as the words reach his ears.

“You didn’t fight. _I’ve_ fought. I’m the one who deserves to walk away from this.”

He can’t breathe.

Vanitas’s fingers coil tighter. “You didn’t see them fall. You don’t understand. You can’t even fathom the mountain of corpses you stand on!”

“V-Vanitas—!” Sora chokes.

“ _We’re the same!_ ” he snarls. “You haven’t retained it! Not one iota of truth!”

Sora gags. His fingers claw weakly at Vanitas’s iron-clad grip.

“Give it to me! Give me what I’ve worked for! It’s _my_ miracle! I won’t let you have it!” He’ll make him see. He’ll rip that peace straight from Sora’s chest. Airy and fragile and _deceitful_ as it is!

Sora fights for breath. Vanitas shoves the memories down his throat. All the unraveling timelines. The blood and the loss. Riku rendered unrecognizable. Kairi’s fractured remains. Ven’s countless breakdowns. Aqua’s hopelessness. The destruction. The _death_. So much death. All the times he’s failed. The times he’s given up. Guilt— _guilt_ —it’s his fault. It’s all his fault—! If only he were better. If only he could fix this. If only—!

Tears drip from Sora’s eyes. They trail down between fingers and mix with Vanitas’s own—both fresh and long-dried—hot and sticky against his skin. Vanitas thought he ran out of those a long time ago.

“It took—so long—!” Vanitas hiccups.

“Please—” Sora gasps.

“Give it to me!”

“I—”

“ _You_!? There is no _you_!” He squeezes Sora’s windpipe shut. “Remember what it’s like to lose!”

Sora’s mouth moves without words—without breath. His lips shape Riku’s name. Vanitas hits him with all the times Riku perished for him. How he dissolved into the black. His strong embrace sheltering them from the dark tide. The kiss of a vow of confidence. How _Vanitas_ fought like hell to reach him. Reach everyone. No matter what. Sora strained. He reached out with everything he had. He let the Dark strip everything away.

What’s a keyblade to a loser?

What’s the point in a name if it perishes?

What’s the weight of this life that can be so easily reset?

There’s always the next one. What does it matter? What does any of this matter?

Sora is the victor, and Vanitas gave up on being him a long time ago.

Win or lose, they both sink into the abyss. They’ve strayed so far from the world line that no one can reach them anymore. Vanitas’s grip falls slack, and Sora gasps for air. Their tears mix in the Darkness.

“It doesn’t matter at all.”

They’ve still lost.

Connections and world lines flicker just out of reach. Farther. Deeper. The abyss calls them. They must pay for what they’ve done. It’s still not enough. Vanitas has given everything and it still isn’t enough.

Vanitas shuts his eyes to sleep for the first time in a thousand years.

Sora holds him tight against his chest, tears dripping unceremoniously into his hair. They fall along Vanitas’s face as if they were his own. They _are_ his own. They’re the same.

“I’m sorry,” Sora trembles. “I’m so sorry—”

But it doesn’t matter at all.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hm. I feel like I could’ve done so much more with this idea. Vanitas being the culmination of Sora from all the failed timelines... He's the hearts from all the Game Overs. Maybe one day. 
> 
> Vanitas is the player and Sora is his piece—clawing desperately for the miracle of victory.
> 
> This is your scheduled reminder to read Umineko. 
> 
> [@VaniVeniVici](https://twitter.com/VaniVeniVici)


End file.
